Pitch Black: Prequel to Blood Red
by Lielie96
Summary: [Prequel to Blood Red: Please read that first] There are reasons Kid's emotions are locked away and death, destruction and chaos have no effect on him. And they all lay in a past filled with abuse, crime and death... [ABANDONED]
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is story is a prequel to my other story, Blood Red. I would advise reading that before reading this, but it's up to you.**

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Father had guests around tonight. His guests are always here once a week, every Thursday. While Father hosted these events, it was always my job to make sure everybody had some sort of liquor in their glass and that their cigars were always light. Once in a while I would have to bring out food for them, which made keeping up with everything just a bit harder. All in all though, I tend to manage quite well. However, tonight was just not my night.

"More wine," I heard Father call while I was in the kitchen, getting another bottle.  
Quickly I walked out, bringing the bottle. "Yes, Sir," I said as I proceeded to fill his glass. As I walked around the table I filled all the glasses, until I came to the end. Somehow I had managed to trip over the edge of the rug in my hurry. Before my mind could even process what was happening, I had spilled red wine over Father's favorite guest.

Eibon stood up in a fit of rage. He was yelling at me but my panicked mind could not comprehend anything as apologizes kept spilling from my mouth. I immediately quietened and my mind cleared as a hand slapped me across the face with full force. Eibon had hit me...  
Normally in this situation, any other child would look to their father for comfort, but I knew better. I immediately left the room, doing my hardest not to cry. Eibon had just slapped me and Father will no doubt punish me for my clumsiness, but if I cry, whatever Father had planned would be much worse.

I was not allowed back into the living room until the guests were gone. I sat in the corner in the kitchen while my mom took over my job for me. Once my mom had disappeared again and I heard the door slam shut I knew what was coming. Without much thought I got up and stood in the middle of the kitchen. Father appeared at the door before long.  
"Did you know what you have done?" he asked angrily.  
"I'm so sorry," I said, my eyes filling with tears.  
"You made me look like a fool," he raised his voice.  
"I'm sorry," I repeated.  
"Like a goddamn fool!"  
He hit me. He slapped me across the face exactly as Eibon had. I didn't say anything as he continued his assault on me, eventually leading to me being on the floor and him landing bruising kicks to my side and back. He was speaking more as he kicked, probably blaming me for everything that had ever gone wrong in his life. But I didn't focus on his words.  
I had already trained my mind to focus on other things beside the pain and insults that poured from Father's mouth. I was more than certain I had a couple of broken ribs and I think my shoulder had been dislocated. I internally sighed, reminding myself to pop it back in place and bandage myself up when I get the chance.

Either his kicks were getting harder or I was more bruised than I thought, but the pain was starting to become unbearable. How much pain can a four year old handle before it becomes fatal, I wondered.  
My thought was cut short as a particularly hard kick to the head caused me to black out. I had silently been hoping for that particular kick to land a lot sooner. There was no pain, no sound. Just pure, calming blackness. That's how I like it.

Pure pitch black...

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 **A/N: Short, sweet(?) and to the point! The beginnings of Pitch Black, the prequel to Blood Red! Please R &R**


	2. Chapter 2

Father was drunk again. Nothing new there.  
My mom was hiding in her room. Nothing new there either.  
Father was beating me again for something I had no control over. Again, nothing new.

This had become the norm for me for a while. I had tried many different ways to keep my mind over the, sometimes numbing, pain. After a few attempts, I finally discovered something something interesting. If I focused on my surrounds, I found that things always looked best when there was two and mirrored. I couldn't put my finger on what it was called, but I liked the idea of everything to be like that. I couldn't exactly tell why I liked it, but I did.

One this particular evening, I was so focused on the single vase that was a fraction of an inch too the left, that I had not noticed Father giving up on me and leaving. Once I heard his snoring come from his study, I got up off the floor and went over to fix the vase. Once I was certain it was definitely in the middle of the table, I went to my mom's room.  
She was a sweet woman, kind and loving but, like most people, feared Father. She had every right to. I've heard how she talks when she thinks I'm asleep. She's grateful I was born, but not as you may think. She's glad Father releases his anger and frustrations out on me and not her anymore. That's not to say that she does not feel guilty for not protecting me.

I knocked on the door, exactly eight times. This way she would know it's me and not a drunken Father. After a couple of seconds, the door opened just enough for me to slip inside. Once inside, my mom immediately hugged me and showered me with apologizes, while I tried to calm her down, telling her it's fine. This normally goes on for about five minutes. After that, she normally helps me patch up and relocate my shoulder once again. This was all part of the little routine I had come to adopt.

Once she had finished bandaging up my torso, I couldn't help but ask about my new found fascination.  
Her simply giggled at my words. "Oh, Kiddo. That's called symmetry. It's a wonderful thing, isn't it?"  
I nodded excitedly, finally knowing what it was called. "I really like it. Makes everything seem balanced."  
"It's lovely that you've found something you like, Kiddo."  
As I gazed into her golden eyes, I could tell she did not think I was serious about my love for this "symmetry". I didn't really blame her either. I was only five after all. How many five year olds can really keep their mind on anything for too long?

My mom was a beautiful woman with one of the kindest hearts before she married Father. She's still rather beautiful but I assume not as she had once been. I looked nothing like her, taking on more of Father's physical features, from my black hair with the weird stripes to my almost deathly pale skin. The only thing that differed from Father were my eyes. I had my mom's beautiful golden eyes, instead of his hateful red.

We sat in a comfortable silence for a bit as I admired the woman in front of me. After a couple of minutes, I stood up, thanked my mom and left the room. I quickly made a dash for my room, fearing Father had awoken at some point. Once in the safety of my own room, I thought about what my mom had said. Symmetry... It seemed like such a simple thing, yet at the same time I felt like it would somehow play a big part in my life. Plus I really liked it and what it stood for.

Everything must be in perfect balance...


	3. Chapter 3

It was nothing new to walk into the house and hear Father yelling angrily at my mom. It was also not uncommon to hear her retaliate either now. Since I started school, my mom had started growing concerned about how Father's doings would affect my school life. Her paranoia had finally gotten to the point where she actually found it in herself to say something about it. For the past few months, I've heard her giving Father countless chances to stop or she would get the police involved and countless times he had ignored her threats.

As I walked into the house after school, I immediately regretted it this time. They were arguing again, but this time I could tell Father had been drinking. He wasn't completely drunk, but he wasn't exactly sober either. I stood in the doorway for a bit, listening to them argue in the living room.  
"It's illegal," I heard my mom yell.  
I heard Father huff at that. "You haven't had a problem with it in the past. What makes now so different?"  
"It's dangerous. And this has an effect on our son."  
"That doesn't mean shit to me. What stupid children think about the boy doesn't mean anything."  
"And if their parents say anything to the cops?" my mom questioned.  
"I'll simply have them removed," Father's response came nonchalantly.  
My mom laughed in disbelief. "You can't just kill everyone that becomes an issue."

I started walking quietly to the staircase. I knew how the argument normally goes from here on. It'll end with Father hitting my mom. That's how it always had. I should have known that it wasn't always going to be the same.  
Father was getting angry from the sounds of things. "I do what I like. And no-one will stop me."  
"The cops will stop you when I tell them all about the illegal weapons trade. And they'll have a field day when they find out about you hitting our-"  
My mom's words were cut off by a gun shot. In surprise I immediately ran down the stairs and into the living room.

My mom was bleeding badly from the gunshot wound in her stomach as she shuffled back on the floor, getting away from Father. Father held a gun in his hand. I looked at the scene in front of me in horror. This was not how it was supposed to be.  
Father noticed me and looked straight at me. He was smiled and threw the gun my way. I was so focused on the gun as it landed at my feet that I had not noticed him walk up to me until he was right behind me.  
"Pick up the gun," he practically ordered me to, which I followed out of fear. "Good boy." He pointed at my mom as he stood right behind me. "Now kill her."  
I was conflicted. My heart was telling me to not listen to Father while my brain, ruled by fear, was telling me to just listen and do as he says. Father must have noticed my inner conflict because he squeezed my shoulder that he had dislocated only yesterday hard.  
"Do it!" he repeated, squeezing harder.  
As I winced in pain, I made up my mind. I closed my eyes and did what I had to do.

There was the sound of a gun shot and the metallic smell of fresh blood hit my nose. Slowly, I opened my eyes and looked at what I had done. Father sounded proud of me, going on about being a natural, though I could not quite hear him as all my attention focused on what had happened. My mom lay dead with a bullet in her brain between the eyes. A bullet I had put there. I should've felt sad, I should've felt remorse or even guilty. But I didn't feel any of that. That day I actually discovered that I love to shoot, that I live to shoot.

That day, the day I killed my mom, was my first of many kills... And I was only ten...


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hello readers! Regarding the previous chapter I was hoping somebody would notice a little detail I purposefully put there that was either different or the same from Blood Red... But nobody said a thing... Either nobody noticed or everybody forgot Blood Red already... :(**

 **Oh well... Here's a new chapter for all of you!**

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I looked down the empty hallway of the mental asylum in disgust. There were an uneven number of doors lining the hallway and they weren't even symmetrical. But I couldn't do anything about it until Father was done with his business meeting. Like the good little bodyguard I was, I stood outside the office, waiting for him. Father's business associate was in charge of this mental asylum and happily allowed Father to use the lower rooms to store his goods until a buyer came around, in exchange for protection from the law. Right now, Father and Asura, the associate, were discussing and improving the terms of agreement.

I mentally sighed, noticing out of the corner of my eye that Asura's guards and assistants were giving me odd looks. It wasn't everyday one sees a scrawny teenager playing bodyguard to one of the most powerful men in the underground. I honestly wouldn't mind them talking about me behind my back, I just wish they wouldn't stare.  
I sighed, listening in on the two guards conversation.  
" _That_ is the best bodyguard the great d'Eath family could come up with," I heard the taller one snicker.  
His friend snickered at that. "I heard that little shrimp is the best guard the head could find. Guess their standards have dropped over the years."  
"I've heard rumors that he's the head's son."  
The friend laughed at that. "Him? d'Eath's son? You've got to be joking. The best they could do was the old man's kid?"  
The tall one shrugged. "That's just what I've heard."  
The friend chuckled. "Sounds absolutely ridiculous to me. Hell the whole idea of this kid even being able to hold a gun sounds ridiculous to me."

I could here chairs moving inside the office and I let out a breath of relief. These two idiots were starting to annoy me and I couldn't be more happy to be leaving with Father. Asura and Father exited the office and started heading down the hallway, exchanging thanks and a few late words. I followed not far behind, but still keeping my distance. Without warning the taller of the two idiots grabbed Father and held a gun to his head.  
He turned so that he could face both Asura and me. "You'll do as I say or I blow his brains out," he threatened.  
Neither of us moved and I noticed the other getting ready if anything happened. The one holding Father hostage seemed pleased with the situation and started making his demands, though I didn't pay attention to that. I was too busy assessing the situation.  
In one fluid movement I pulled my pistol out and shot the taller one right in the head, completely missing Father. I quickly turned on my heel and took out the other one as well.

Asura immediately started making sure Father was okay, saying something along the lines of him being glad that I was there. I did note that he said, "He really cares about you. Something you can't buy."  
I tried not to laugh at that. I remember not thinking about how much I supposedly cared about Father. I only thing that went through my mind was that Father could not die on that day by this man's hands.

I remember thinking that killing Father would be my privilege.


	5. Chapter 5

Father was running around in a blind panic. It had been three days since our visit to the asylum and things where going haywire. Turns out that some of Asura's "most trusted" weren't actually supposed to be trusted. A couple of "undesireds" had managed to make it into his close circle. From what I've managed to put together, they set off some of Father's more explosive stock. The explosions were contained at least, so no cops or anything would be investigating, however multiple people; staff, patients and Asura's trusted a like; have died due to the now unstable structure. Father's only concern right now was that he's lost so much stock. He either didn't know that the people responsible for what happened would most likely be coming here or he just didn't care.

Father walked down the hall barking orders at various people. I followed closely behind him as he continued to order people to move the goods that were on the property. Eventually he walked into his office with me closely behind him. He sat in his chair bind is desk and turned to face me.  
"We will have a problem soon," he said. Seems he realized these people are coming after him.  
I nodded in understanding, knowing he was addressing me. He never called me by my name. He never has.  
"These people will try to kill me. And you have to protect me and kill them first," he continued.  
I nodded again. "It's my duty to protect you, my Lord, and so I will protect you with my life," I lied.  
Father seemed pleased with that and leaned back in his chair. "Excellent. I'll be safe in here with you protecting me."  
I mentally sighed and headed to the door as though I was going to walk out.

Instead of walking out Father's office, I shut the door and locked it.  
"What are you doing?" Father asked, the sound of confusion clear in his voice.  
I turned to face him, pulling my pistol out. "Do you remember when you gave me this?" I asked, not answering his question.  
Father huffed but didn't say a word.  
"It's the very one you made me use to kill my own mother," I said pointing the gun at him.  
This time, I got a reaction out of him. He stood up, clearly starting to panic. "What's the meaning of this insubordination?"  
"You're going to die by my hands, just like mom."  
Father started backing away, but tripped over his own chair. "You can't do that."  
"Oh yes I can," I said as I shot him in the stomach like he had done to my mom all those years ago.  
Father cried out loudly in pain, clutching the wound, trying to get the bleeding to stop. "Please. I'll do anything," he begged as I aimed at his head.  
Without a reply or any hesitation, I shot him once more like I did my mom.

I stared down at Father's body. I thought I would feel happy that he was dead, but I didn't. I heard running coming down the hallway, someone must've heard the gunshots. I sighed and got ready for an attack. If it was one of Father's men, they would mostly try to kill me. There was banging on the door as the person tried to break it down.

The door flew open and for once in my life, I was surprised...

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 **A/N: Cliffhanger! *insert evil laughter* Enjoy!**


	6. Author's Note

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello lovely readers. I quickly want to thank you all for coming along this journey of Blood Red and Pitch Black with me. However, all good things must come to an end. I've lost my inspiration for this story and will not be continuing until I find some again. Until then, I'm declaring this story "complete".**

 **But have no fear, I have other stories you can read that I'm planning on writing.** **No spoilers yet! ;)**

 **Once again, I would like to thank you and I encourage you to read one of my other more complete stories.**

 **I'm also willing to take suggestions and challenges from you all.**

 **Thank you once more. Hope to see you on my other projects.**

 **DtK888**


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